Better or Worse
by harleyquinnqueenofhearts
Summary: Harley's decided to go legit...until J ends up sharing a cell with her. 3rd in the HQ Diary series


Harleen Quinzel's Diary

Property of Arkham Asylum

December 17th

Here I am, back at Arkham. Ironic, isn't it? I've gone legit, yet I'm here with the psycho criminals. Let me explain what happened.

Obviously, I'm not dead. I finished the last diary and jumped out the window. There I was, sailing through the air, when someone caught me, sending a jolt of pain through my entire body. It was Batman, on his grapple hook. I freaked out.

"How did you- did he-" I stuttered. How was Bruce Wayne here? I had just seen him the day before all tied up.

"I got out of the chains three days ago. I was just waiting for him to leave," he replied, as stoic as ever.

"You're…invincible," I gasped, still not entirely believing he was there. Reality came back all too quickly, however, when he handed me over to the cops. They put me in the back of an ambulance where Michelle was waiting.

"Harley, are you alright?" she asked.

"How did you know I would jump?" I queried, feeling like I was in a strange dream.

"We didn't. All we knew is that you were here, which meant that you were alive, which meant that _someone _forged a police report. That had Joker written all over it. If you're here, he must be; if he's here, there's bound to be some injuries."

"He'll be gone by now. Where are we going?"

"To Major Crimes. Protocol for the arrest of you or him."

"Arrest?" I repeated. Oh, no.

"Harleen Quinzel, you have the right to remain silent…" She droned on as I lay pondering what would happen to me. I'd face the death penalty for sure, unless there was some loophole I could use. I thought it through.

_Ok…I'm a minor. That has to count for something. I'm a victim of…something. I can plead insanity! _

I had a plan, thank goodness. When we arrived, Michelle helped me into a wheelchair, which hurt immensely. I got wheeled into an interrogation room, where a judge, two police officers, and Commissioner Gordon were all sitting. You'd think they'd cut me some slack for the broken rib, but no.

The judge began, "On the 213 counts of murder, how do you plead?"

"Guilty."

"On the two counts of kidnapping, how do you plead?"

"Guilty." The list went on and on. Theft, accessory, assault…I plead guilty to every one of them. We continued.

"Miss Quinzel, we'd like to have you evaluated by a psychiatrist. You're going to Arkham either way, but we need to know which wing," Gordon snapped. I kept my mouth shut to stay out of trouble.

The psych evaluation guy walked in the door, trying to read me from the moment he walked in. He had red hair and a big beard, which made him look like he stepped out of a Brawny commercial.

"You're Harley, am I right?" he asked in a calm tone. I rolled my eyes.

"My name is Harleen." I was done being Harley.

"Oh? How did you become Harley?"

"Long story. You want to read it, you'll have to find J."

"And who's J?" I sighed, trying not to think about _him. _

"The Joker."

"How did you meet him?" Here we go…

"He kidnapped me. I didn't really have a choice."

"Did he ever hurt you in a physical way?"

"He's not a rapist, if that's what you're getting at. But he's hit me before. Why do you think I'm in a wheelchair?"

"Why did you stay with him so long if he hit you?"

"He, um…I thought he loved me." I was trying to hold it all together, but this guy saw right through me.

"You loved him, though, didn't you?"

"Yes…I'm so stupid! I don't know why I…Bruce was right. It was a mistake."

"Bruce? Bruce Wayne?"

"Yeah."

"The Joker kidnapped him?" I nodded. "Why?"

"He's obsessed with him," I explained, forgetting that this guy didn't know what I was talking about. He looked puzzled. "Oh, you don't know. He's Batman." The psych guy chuckled. "What? You don't believe me?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but it seems a bit farfetched."

"But it's true!"

"Alright…" I could tell he didn't believe me. "What else can you tell me about the Joker?"

"He's selfish…arrogant. Demanding….I hate him."

"I thought you loved him."

"I do, but I hate him, too."

"Why?"

"Because he lied to me."

"With all due respect, Miss Quinn, he's a murderer. Lying is something that murderers do."

"Yeah, but…it's different than you think. You think he'd just be like some crazy psycho killer, but he's smart. He can be really sweet sometimes."

"What about all those people you and he killed? They were good people. Don't you regret that?"

"I did for a little while, but it just got less and less…it's like I'm completely apathetic now."

"Thank you. I think we're finished." He walked out, then a few minutes later, everyone filed back in. The judge was the first to speak.

"Miss Quinzel, consider yourself lucky. You've been declared legally insane." I smiled. "_But _you are in no way off the hook. The only way you'll ever be leaving Arkham Asylum is in a body bag. You will spend the rest of your days in the wing for the criminally insane. Essentially, life without parole." I frowned. He said a bunch of legal jargon I didn't understand. We all took turns signing legal documents saying what a freak I am, and I was off to Arkham.

So here I am. There's a solid metal door between me and my guard. Four white brick walls. No windows except the one in the door. Everything I have has been issued by Arkham, even my IV. I'm told what to do and when and how to do it. As you can tell, I hate this. The only upside is I'm not being beaten senseless every other night by the man that I can't stop loving.

I've gone back to being Harleen. No more crimes, no more craziness, no more Joker. I can't do it anymore. I'm done.

December 18th

Today, I heard the guards talking through the door. It was muffled but I could catch some of it.

One of them said, "They couldn't have. He's a genius." I had a feeling I knew who they were talking about.

"I'm telling you, they did! He's on trial right now," the other replied.

"If we're lucky, they'll put him in with her. Maybe they'll kill each other," the first guard laughed. Oh, no. He's caught, which means he'll be here in a matter of days. He'll be back in my life, which is the last thing I need.

Perhaps he'll be in a different wing, where the really bad criminals go. Oh, who am I kidding! He'll be in here. I'll be stuck with him, and he'll never leave me alone.

I'm doomed.

I'll try to occupy my mind with something else for now. It's my goal to stay sane in here this time.

So, this doctor keeps coming in and making me sit up so I don't get infections. It hurts really, really bad even with the meds. Stupid J. Why did he have to do that? What did I do wrong? Excuse me for saving a life!

I wonder how Bruce is doing. He probably has a whole hospital of doctors helping him. I hope he heals okay. To be honest, I feel kind of bad for him, even though he turned me in. J did all those horrible things to him. I can relate to that. Now I see him for what he is…but I still love him.

Well, so much for keeping my mind off J. I should really call him the Joker now. It'll help with the healing process.

I wish I had never met him. I should've found a way out of the bank, or not gone to visit, or not turned around. Oh, well. What's done is done. I can't fix it. All I can do is go on with life.

December 19th

He's here. The guards were right.

It started out as a pretty good day. I didn't hurt as bad as yesterday, which was a plus. The day took a turn for the worse, however when I heard that distinctive laugh echo throughout the halls. It got closer and closer. At first I thought I must've been hearing things, but the door to my cell opened.

There he was in his Arkham-issue gray scrubs, no makeup. He was far from out of character, smiling as if he was just as menacing as before. It was adorable, but I didn't want it to be. I tried to attract the guard's attention.

"Hey!" I yelled in protest. It was hopeless. J-I mean the Joker- walked right up to the bed I was sitting in.

"Hiya, Harley. Miss me?" he taunted. I scowled at him.

"My name is Harleen. And no. I did not."

"Come on, _Harley. _Not even a little bit? I came here just to see you."

"Nope. Now, if you'll excuse me, Mister Joker. You're in my cell."

"Aw…is somebody mad at me? Get used to it, doll. This is _our _cell now." I scoffed at him. If he thought he was staying here, he had another thing coming! I tried to remain calm. Maybe if he never got a rise out of me, he'd get bored with me.

"Fine. You stay on that side, and I'll stay on this side." He pouted like a toddler.

"What if I don't want to?" I leaned up as far as I could, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him down to eye level.

"Then there will be problems between me and you." I let him go, but he stayed there.

"What are you going to do to me? Hmm? Or did you forget already? I _own _you," he retorted, his familiar angry frown bringing back memories. I had had enough.

"You don't own me. You don't own anything. Arkham owns _you. _I'm not your doll anymore, J." He smirked. "What?" I asked angrily.

"You called me J. Just a matter of time…" What was he saying?

"Just a matter of time before what?" He just shook his head and sat down on the other side of the room. This was going to be torture.

December 20th

J's voice woke me up today. He was reading from the manila folder in his hands.

"'Patient has violent tendencies and problems controlling her emotions.' This part's interesting: 'Seems to be obsessed with the Joker.'"

"You have my file?!" He nodded, an arrogant smirk crawling across his face. I wanted to slap it off. "That's illegal!"

"Is it, now? I thought you'd gotten over the whole breaking the law thing, seeing as you killed so many people." He was bringing this up just to upset me, and it was working.

"What do you want from me?" I sighed.

"I'm just telling you the facts, kid. See, I know things about you that you don't even know about yourself…or won't admit." I knew what this was about.

"I'm not going to forgive you."

"Yeah, you are. You still love me. Can't stop yourself, even though you wish you could. You want things to go back to the way they were, but that's not possible. So you're going to pretend that everything's normal, that you never met me, or did any of those horrible things to those innocent people. Am I right? I know I am, because you, Harley, are an easy read…and I like reading you just as much as you wish you could read me."

I tried to act normal, but he had called me out. He saw right through me, but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. He was wrong about me going to forgive him. I wish I could've hit him with some intellectual, witty comeback, but I was out of answers around him. He made me nervous again, and I hated it.

"You're wrong. I'll never forgive you." At least _that _was true. I had no intention of ever forgiving him for all the terrible things he did to me. If it wasn't for him, I'd be on Christmas break right now like every other kid in Gotham.

"Oh, you will. And I'm going to enjoy it." I pretended not to listen, trying to fall asleep again. I didn't even know what time it was. "You've already started to. You called me J, remember? Next, you'll stop pretending you're Harleen. Then you'll want me to come over to your side of the cell, but I won't and you'll hate me for it. And then you'll get up, no matter how bad it hurts, and you'll come over here and apologize for how stupid you were and tell me you forgive me. And you're going to tell me you love me." He leaned against the wall, so sure of his little summation. I wasn't buying a word of it.

Eventually, my thoughts carried me off to sleep. I was dreaming that me and J were running away from Batman, but I was enjoying it. Ugh. I hate it when J's right.

December 21st

The doctor came in earlier than usual today, her long blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun. She was nervous today, watching J like a hawk. He started to laugh. I rolled my eyes.

"Here we go…" I sighed in exasperation.

"Nervous?" J asked the doctor. She was shaking, poor thing.

"Don't mind him. He's just trying to scare you," I consoled. It wasn't helping. Her hands still shook. "You going to be okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied a little too quickly.

"You're not fine, doll face," J taunted. I was a little mad at that. He called _me _doll face. Suddenly this doctor wasn't such a poor thing anymore. She was competition.

"Shut up, J!" I yelled. He smiled. He knew he was getting to me.

"Not talking to you, _Harleen._ No, I'm talking to…what's your name, princess?"

I warned her, "Don't-"

" Charlotte." Her green eyes filled with tears.

"You're scared, aren't you, Charlotte? Scared of me. _She_ knows the feeling," he smiled nodding towards me. "And you know something? You should be."

"Please, just ignore him," I told her. This had gone on long enough. "Hey. Look at me." She did. "Calm down."

"Okay." She messed with the IV and helped me sit up. "How you feeling?"

"I'm alright," I groaned. "Thank you for asking." She smiled at me.

"I'll be back in tomorrow, okay? Rest up," she muttered, her voice still shaky.

"Looking forward to it," J chuckled. I shot him a dirty look as Charlotte walked out of the room. "Wish she took care of _me._"

"J!" I snapped. It was clear he was trying to make me jealous, but I didn't care. All I could think about was him leaving me, but that's kind of stupid, because we're both going to be stuck here until we're dead. Still, I felt threatened by Charlotte. She was prettier than me, that's for sure. It's crazy how jealous I can get, even though I hate J. He looked so cute sitting on the floor like that, his dirty blonde hair covering part of his face. I wanted to be Harley again already. Gosh, I hated that he was right.

December 22nd

Charlotte walked in with a confident façade. Even I could tell that she was still apprehensive about being here. J was enjoying her fear. I so wanted to smack him.

"How are you doing, Harleen?" Charlotte asked. I wanted to smack her too because of the smile she was leaving on J's face. That proved it for me.

"My name," I sighed, "is Harley." J's smile doubled in size as I rubbed my forehead in frustration. After all that work at being Harleen, I had taken ten steps backward. I hated myself for proving him right. Charlotte gave me a quizzical look.

"Okay." She helped me to sit up and hurried out of the cell.

"Jealous of the pretty doctor?" J teased.

"Shut up." I was tired of him being right. He just chuckled.

"You knew it was going to happen. You miss me, don't you?" I sat up in bed as far as I could.

"No. I'm still mad at you."

"Not for long. You should be nicer to me. Christmas is coming up."

"I didn't know you celebrated Christmas."

"I didn't. No point in celebrating Christmas by yourself. But now, I have you…right?"

"Don't push it, J," I growled.

"Hey! Do you want a present or not?"

"You can't get me a present. You're locked up in here."

"But the guard isn't."

"What did you do?"

"Relax. I haven't done anything yet. But it's amazing what people will do for you when you scare them."

"Well, I'm not getting you anything." I sounded so childish, but that was the only retort in my head.

"I understand. It's hard to shop for the guy with the city in his pocket." He had mischief in his eyes when he said that. His mischievous faces are adorable. (A/N: lines shouldn't be there)

"What about if I let you come over to my side?" Uh-oh. There was the evil smirk.

He was almost giddy as he said, "No."

I hated him for it.

December 23rd

J was sleeping when Charlotte came in today. She smiled.

"Hey," she whispered. I smiled back. It was good to see her be confident again.

"Hi, Charlotte…listen, I'm sorry about him being weird with you. I understand how nerve-wracking it is to be around him."

"It's fine. You know…for a criminal, you're a really sweet kid." I decided that she wasn't competition anymore. She was just trying to help me out.

"Thanks," I laughed as she changed the IV bag.

"I won't be in tomorrow or the next day. You'll have to sit up by yourself." I nodded. "Have a good Christmas, okay?"

"Yeah, you too." It was good to have contact with a normal person. It's not that I don't love J, but it's just refreshing to know that someone who's not mental cares about me.

Later that day, J stirred. I giggled. He was curled up in a ball on the floor.

"Hey. You awake?" I asked. To be honest, I was hoping for silence.

"Mmm?" he groaned.

"You alright? You slept in really late today."

"Yeah, I'm fine." He didn't look fine.

"You're really pale. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I guess I didn't sleep that great last night." I was glad he told me that. It meant that he didn't mind telling me his problems, which meant that he trusted me with them. I smiled. "What?"

"Nothing."

December 24th

It's Christmas Eve, and J was being really weird today.

"Morning," I moaned tiredly. There was silence. I sat up to see if he was awake. He was sitting up against the wall, just like usual. Well, except there were no witty remarks. Just a blank stare at me. "What's with you?" I asked. No answer.

I couldn't believe how childish he was being. The silent treatment was so first grade. The harder thing to believe was that it was working. I was annoyed already. "You must really want me to forgive you, huh?" I joked, trying to hide the fact that I desperately wanted him to respond. I even missed arguing with him.

By the time the guard came in with lunch, I was a mess. I tried to hide it as best I could, but I could barely eat. "Talk to me, J. Please," I whined. I resorted to humming to myself. I felt like I was going insane.

"J…" He just looked at me. No emotion on his face. Just a stare. "J, talk to me!" I yelled. He didn't even flinch. "I hate this," I whispered. I could feel the tears coming. The guard pounded on the other side of the wall.

"Dinner!" he yelled through the door.

"I'm not hungry," I admitted sadly. I sat looking at J until I couldn't stand it anymore. I slowly turned myself sideways, letting my feet hit the floor. Pain coursed through my body as I stood, holding myself by the pole the IV was attached to. Every step was agony. I let out a groan of pain as I made my way over to where J was sitting and leaned against the wall.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed, "And I forgive you. And I love you."

"Aw, Harl." He stood up and put my arm around his shoulders. "C'mon." Fresh tears came just from his touch.

"Thank you," I cried. He helped me back into bed and sat down on the edge, holding my hand.

"I missed you," he cooed. I couldn't help but smile.

"I missed you, too." He brushed my hair out of my face.

"Good night, doll. I…I love you." That was big. He was never the first to use the L word.

"I love you, too."

December 25th

This was an amazing Christmas for being in Arkham. J woke me up like a little kid would've.

"It's Christmas! Come on, Harley! Wake up!" he exclaimed eagerly.

"Okay, okay," I laughed. He was hiding a green wrapped present behind him. "What's that?" I asked conspicuously.

"Merry Christmas," he giggled as he handed me the present. I tore it open, gasping at the thought he put into it. It was a beautiful black diary with a red ribbon tie.

"Aw…thank you," I gushed, kissing him on the cheek. "But I didn't get you anything."

"Yeah, you did." I gave him a puzzled look. "You let me come over here."

"J, that doesn't count."

"You don't have to get me anything."

"I will when we get out of here." A grin splashed across his face.

"How did you know?"

"I'm here with _you_, J. We were bound to get out of here sometime. Question is, when?"

"When you're better," he replied, kissing me. "Not a second before." I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Okay. I hope I get better soon." I wanted out of here.

"Me too, beautiful. Me too."

It felt good to be together again. Everything was back to the way it should be, except of course that we were in Arkham and my rib was broken. At that moment, it didn't matter. I was with J, so I felt better already.

"Merry Christmas, J."

"Merry Christmas, Harl."

December 26th

Charlotte came in with a weird belt looking thing today. She seemed surprised to see J sitting on the edge of the bed, holding my hand. He got up to let her help me.

"What's that?" I asked her.

"It's a rib belt," she explained. "Hopefully, it'll reduce the pain and help you to heal faster."

I looked straight at J as I commented, "Heal faster, huh?" He smiled.

"Yep," she replied. She looked at J, then looked at me.

"Don't be nervous. He's ok now," I assured. J scoffed and muttered something under his breath. "Hey. Be nice," I warned. Charlotte continued to help me with the rib belt, which made a difference already.

"How's that feel?" she asked smiling at me.

"Good. Feels good," I laughed in amazement. This thing was actually helping me. "How long do you think it'll take to heal?"

"Well, ribs usually take about a month to heal with the proper care, so…I figure you should be okay about the second week in January. Not long now. You're doing really well with it. You might be able to use a wheelchair in a couple of days." She was smiling again.

"You have a beautiful smile," I commented. She really did. It was contagious.

"Thank you. That's nice of you to say. So how was your Christmas?"

"Alright. Pretty good for being stuck in a cell. How about you?"

"Great, thanks for asking. Visited my mom in Vermont." She put a pillow behind me. "Okay?" I nodded. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Charlotte." She walked out of the room. "She's really nice." J looked up at me.

"Yeah, too nice." He took his place again at the edge of the bed.

"There's no such thing as too nice, J…so the second week in January. That's not long."

"It is in this dump." I glared at him.

"Stop being so negative. It's annoying."

"Hey, I can't help it. It's how I'm wired," he said with a smile.

I teased "Yeah, sure…" I pulled out my Arkham diary.

"You still using that old thing?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm waiting to use the one you got me. I want the first entry to be something amazing." He gave me a coy smile. "What?"

"You'll see. You'll be using that diary the day we get out of here." That mischievous face wasn't telling me much.

"I'm assuming you have something planned."

"You have no idea." He said nothing more, which was driving me mad. I was curious about this, and he knew it. What could he possibly have planned already?

December 27th

"How you feeling?" J asked as I blinked myself awake.

"Better than yesterday." He helped me to sit up and kissed me on the cheek. Just then, Charlotte came strolling in.

"Aw…that's so sweet," she gushed. I bit my lip nervously. Was this chick insane? We're two criminals, one of which is the most feared man in Gotham, and she thinks we're cute? Saying that in front of J was like a death wish. I could see the frown forming on his face. I pulled him back down to the bed by his shirt collar, not wanting Charlotte to get hurt.

"J…calm down," I soothed, grabbing his hand.

"I'm fine," he snarled.

"Sorry about that," I told Charlotte while glaring at J. She swallowed nervously.

"It's-it's fine." She went on with her routine. "I'll, um, have a wheelchair for you tomorrow." She exited while fidgeting nervously with her necklace.

"What was that?!" I shouted angrily.

"I have a reputation to uphold, Harley," he sighed.

"You didn't have to scare her like that! She's done nothing but help! She even puts up with _you_!"

"_You_ put up with me!" Ugh. He was mad at me.

"Don't even start that, J! Why can't you just be nice for once?"

"I'm nice to you! Or did you forget who turned himself in just to break you out?"

"Yeah, after breaking my rib!" He stormed off to the other side of the room.

"Be thankful for that rib, Harl, 'cause if it wasn't broken, you'd be getting some bruises right now."

I sighed in disbelief. After all he did to me, I forgave him, and _this_ is how he repays me? Ugh, I hate him! I hate that I love him anyway!

I began quietly, "This is not a healthy relationship. It can only end in me getting hurt. I shouldn't love you, but I do. J, please…please don't make me sacrifice any more for you." There was a long, uncomfortable silence. He responded without looking at me.

"Harl, you…you're right. I can't hurt you anymore. When you were mad at me, I…I couldn't take it. If you left, I…" He let his voice trail off while I sat thinking about how nice he was being. Too nice.

"You don't have to lie to me." His gorgeous brown eyes made contact with mine.

"I'm not." There was truth in his gaze. I was surprised to see that.

"Get over here," I laughed. He came running over to the bed and took my face in his hands.

"I love you."

December 28th

"Morning," Charlotte muttered nervously as she dragged a wheelchair in behind her. J was sitting next to me, his arm around my shoulders.

"Hey…you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," she hesitated. She didn't look fine. Her hair was in her face, her eyes bloodshot. It was obvious she hadn't slept well last night. She struggled to push the wheelchair open. It was stuck. She yelled in frustration, dropping her head to her hands.

"Charlotte…tell me what's wrong," I pleaded gently.

"It's my mom. She has aplastic anemia, needs a bone transplant. I can't-"She started sobbing.

"Come here; sit down. You need a week off, Charlotte. Go-"

She interrupted, "I've tried, but I can't get anybody to cover my shift…I don't know what to do!" I put my hand on her shoulder.

"It's going to be okay."

"No, it's not!" That made _me_ feel like crying. Poor Charlotte had realized the cold, harsh reality of the world.

"I know…but sometimes it helps to pretend it is." She looked up at me, confused. "That's what I do when things are bad," I explained shrugging my shoulders. That was true. I pretended that I was Harleen for days. I pretended J had never hit me. It made me feel better. It had gotten to the point where I couldn't really tell where my real world ended and my imagination began. Geez, I am insane.

Charlotte wiped her eyes and left the room after helping me into my wheelchair. I wheeled around the room holding my IV pole close behind me, free from my mattress prison.

"Are you…happy with me?" J asked. I was caught completely off guard. While I was wheeling about the room like an idiot, J was lying in my bed staring at the ceiling.

"Of course I am! I-"

"I mean, really happy?" I wheeled myself slowly towards the bed.

"J, I love you. I can't think of a single thing in the world that would make me happier than being with you."

All I got in return was a simple "okay." What was up with him today? Maybe I was just seeing his unstable side, but it wasn't like him to ask me questions like that. I hoped he didn't feel alone. I didn't ever want him to feel alone.

December 29th

J and I have resorted to small talk to make sure we don't go any more insane than we already are in this dump. I started with a big question.

"How'd you get those scars?" He shifted uncomfortably.

"Which one?" he asked.

"What do mean which one?" I searched his face, just then noticing a small scar beneath his bottom lip and one above his eyebrow. "All of 'em."

He sighed, "Why do you want to know?" He was so deflecting.

"I don't know why. I just…do."

"Do you want the truth?"

I scoffed before answering, "No, I want a lie. Of course I want the truth!"

"You're not getting the truth."

"Then tell me your lie."

"Why? If you know it's not true, then why do you want to hear me tell it?"

"I don't know! I just do!" He sighed.

"Batman," he answered, pointing to the one above his eyebrow. "Girl with braces," pointing to the small one below his lip. I laughed. "And finally, dear old dad," his smile. "Some of that was the truth, you know. Guess what parts."

"I'm thinking Batman, and that's it." He nodded, smiling.

"That's…amazing. How'd you-"

"Guess you're not the only one that reads people, huh?"

"You read me?" I nodded. "How?"

"That time it was just a lucky guess, but sometimes, you have looks and laughs. It's like a whole different language. I guess I just kind of deciphered it by accident. Like when you're happy, really happy, you laugh normal. Your eyes get all bright and it's adorable," I chuckled.

"What about when I'm sad?"

"That's a tough one. I haven't been able to tell unless you let me know somehow." He smiled.

"What about when I'm mad?"

"At me or at other people?"

"Both."

"When you're mad at other people, you laugh like a maniac. You look playful and excited, but evil at the same time. When you're mad at me…" I didn't really want to tell him.

"Go on," he pleaded.

"You lose the brightness in your eyes and the playfulness in your whole persona. You don't laugh or smile anymore, and that's what scares me the most."

"So you don't like it when I don't laugh?" He seemed to ignore the rest of what I said.

"I love it when you laugh."

"What's your favorite?"

"Your normal laugh. I can tell that one's real…so what about me? How do you read me?"

"Well, when you're happy, you always laugh or do that squeal thing."

"I only do that with you." He kissed the top of my head.

"When you're sad, you're easier to read. Your eyes get all watery like you're going to cry, even if you're not. I can usually tell what made you sad."

"And what about when I'm mad at you?"

"You're different when you're mad at me. You only glare at me, if you look at me at all."

"How can you read people like that?"

He explained, "Everyone has a unique way of doing things. Every word, every look, every step…it's like a scent. Even if you do some things like someone else, you do them in a different order."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Let's say…there's an explosion. And you and I both smile at it. You smile after you turn away from it because you're not used to them. Understand it now?" I shook my head.

"Not really."

"That's ok. It's like a science. You've got to practice."

"Did you read Charlotte?"

"I read everybody. It's my hobby. But I have to say, you're my favorite person to read." I squealed.

December 30th

"Hi, Charlotte!" I chimed cheerily. I was glad to see her, but she looked like she needed cheering up. "How's your mom?" She helped me into my wheelchair.

"Not so great," she responded, checking my vitals. "I keep thinking, what if she dies and I don't get to say goodbye?"

"That's not going to happen," I assured her. She pushed a strand of hair from her face tiredly. I felt like she needed to be distracted.

"So did you always want to be a doctor?" She looked surprised that I had asked her that.

"Um…no, I wanted to be a teacher before. Stupid, right?"

"No. I wanted to be a lawyer. Ironic, isn't it?" I laughed. We both turned to J, who was sitting on the bed, at the same time.

"What?" he asked.

"What did you want to be?" I asked. He shook his head, not wanting to answer. "Fine. Be that way," I mumbled playfully. I caught the teeniest corner of a smile from him, for just an instant.

After Charlotte left, we got to talking again.

"You really want to know what I wanted to be?" he asked. I nodded. "I wanted to be a psychiatrist."

"Well, that explains a lot." He looked insulted. "No, no! I mean the reading people thing. You have a gift for that…so…why won't you talk in front of Charlotte?"

"I don't trust her. I don't trust anyone that can be out of this room but chooses to come in."

"Do you trust me?"

"I guess I do. What about you? Do you trust me?" I thought about my answer.

"Depends what mood you're in. If you're in a J mood, then of course I trust you. But sometimes…a lot of times…you're in a Joker mood, and then I can't trust you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like…sometimes, when you get really into being the Joker, I get scared that you might…" How could I put this delicately? "Not want me anymore."

"You think I'm going to kill you." He saw right through it.

"Sometimes I do. What's going to happen when you don't want me anymore?" He kissed the top of my head.

"I'll always want you."

"But what if you don't? What's going to happen to me?"

"I'm not going to leave you."

"How do I know that? No offense, but commitment's not exactly your thing."

"You'll see." I stared at him, waiting for answers. "Not now, but later you will."

What was that supposed to mean? How could he commit? It's not like he was going to marry me or something. I doubt I could even commit that much to him. He's not the kind of guy I see myself spending the rest of my life with, even though I love him. I don't know how I'd leave him though. I don't ever want to. I should just let him kill me when he doesn't want me anymore. I'd definitely want to die before him, and I don't want Batman to kill me. That's uneventful, not to mention embarrassing. I've tried killing myself once, and I doubt I could do it again. Death by Joker. That works for me.

"When you don't want me anymore, just kill me," I told him rather plainly.

"What?! Where did that come from?"

"Well, I don't want to die old and gray once you've left me. And I don't want you to die before me. So…kill me when you're done." He looked at me as if I was crazy. Ah, who am I kidding? I am crazy. He looked at me as if he _wasn't _crazy.

"No!" he refused.

"Why not?" I whined.

"Think about what you're asking me right now. Do you really want me to kill you?"

"Not now, but eventually…yes."

"I'm not going to." I rolled my eyes. He had made up his mind, and when he does that, there is no way of changing it. There was an awkward silence, which J broke. "Why do you want to die?"

"I don't."

"Then why do you want me to kill you?"

"I don't know. Read me. Find out for yourself." He sat looking at me for a minute.

"No. You don't want to die. You don't _want_ me to kill you, but you've convinced yourself it's going to happen, so you pretend to be brave. You tell me so I won't think you're weak."

"That's not true. I'm not weak."

"You are, but that's why you have me." This was getting weird.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I'm not. I'm just stating the facts."

"You tell me you love me a lot."

"It's a fact. I love you."

"But you never used to tell me." I'll admit. This was my feeble attempt to get inside his head.

"True, but I need to now."

"Why?"

"You'll see." I was getting tired of all this you'll see nonsense. I shot him a dirty look to let him know that. "I'm not going to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"What I have planned."

"How far in advance have you been planning this?"

"I'm not telling."

"Well, how much of what we've been through has been planned?"

"I never planned to take you. Didn't think I'd love you."

"When did you start loving me?"

"Remember when you came to jail for me? It was during that kiss."

"Why'd you take me?"

"Truth?" I nodded. "I needed to get out of there alive, so you were my shield."

"Why'd you do this?" I asked pointing to my scars, which I've grown fond of.

"I thought you could be of use. Wanted to be able to find you later. Why are you asking so many questions?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"I'm bored. I like hearing what you think. I'm an insane harpy who needs to know everything. Take your pick." He laughed his default chuckle. That was close to my favorite. His laugh grew deeper, more throaty than usual. I loved this one. He pulled my wheelchair close to the bed, kissing me deeply.

"No more talking," he demanded, "'til I say." I nodded, hanging on his every word. After a kiss like that, I would do anything for him. He soaked in the silence, visibly relaxing. All that was missing was his trademark purple suit and makeup and he'd be completely at home right there in the cell. He sighed. "This is nice." I nodded in agreement since that was all I could do.

I noticed that really it wasn't nice as I stopped to look at it. The bed was bolted down to the floor. It was dirty and ill-lit. I guess I just felt like agreeing with him.

"This used to be home, Harl. Sad, isn't it? I sat in a cell down the hall for two years before I got wise and decided to make a break for it. How long'd it take you, two weeks? Don't answer that; it's rhetorical…used to have a radio when I was in here. Only station that worked was classical. I love that music. Sometimes, I can still hear it, but only when it's real quiet…like this."

I thought about all that. Why'd he tell me it, if it was even true? Maybe he felt awkward because it was quiet, but…he liked the music. Why would he talk? Maybe it was to make me think about it. That was certainly working. He interrupted my thoughts.

"Hey, Harl?"

"What?" He shoved the wheelchair, sending it skating across the room and into the wall. I groaned with the slight twinge of pain. He held back laughter.

"I didn't tell you to talk yet," he responded with a smile.

December 31st

It's New Years Eve! Only two more weeks! Thank goodness for that, because I'm going super insane in here.

"J," I whined first thing in the morning, "When can we leave? I'm going crazy in here."

"You _are_ crazy," he snickered. I sighed. He always thought things were funnier than they really were.

"Are you done?" He stifled his laughter as best he could.

"Only two more weeks, baby," he choked through his chuckles.

"Can we cut it short?"

"No. You need your health. Besides, we'll be running a lot."

"Can you at least tell me your plan?"

"Not yet." I sighed again. Always so mysterious. I leaned over the bed to steal a glance at him. He had been sleeping on the floor since he got here. I got the bed to myself unless I wanted to sleep in the wheelchair. He smiled lazily as my hair fell in his face. We both sat up when we heard the cell door open. Two armed guards and Dr. Davenport walked in.

"Aw, crap! Not you again!" I whined.

"Who's that?" J asked quietly.

"My old psychiatrist," I responded loud enough for her to hear, "But I have you now. I don't need her."

"Harley, we have to talk," she said sternly.

"No, we don't. I have rights, you know."

"And I have guards." I scoffed out loud.

"Please! They're just glorified servants!" J burst out laughing from the floor next to the bed. I smiled at the sound.

One guard yelled, "Hey, stuff it, clown boy!"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. See this rib? He broke it, and we love each other. Imagine what he'll do to you, a person he has no respect for whatsoever."

"Well put, Harley-girl," J added, sitting on the bed beside me. I squealed quietly.

"Thanks, J." Dr. Davenport gave me a disgusted look. "Is there a problem, Dr. D?" She just scowled. J tightened his grip around my waist.

"I don't like her," he mumbled. I feigned trying to calm him down, putting my hand on his chest.

"It's okay, J. Just calm down. She'll be gone soon."

"Harley…" she warned, trying to be menacing.

"Look, lady, he broke my rib. _Him_. You're just not as scary as you'd like to be."

"I'm trying to help you," she pleaded.

"Sure, that salary with all those zeroes at the end doesn't help at all," I muttered.

"That's it! You need to cooperate or-"

"What? You going to beat me up? Make me take medicine? You can just leave, sweetheart, 'cause I'm not talking to you."

"Oh, yes, you are. Guards!" she ordered, pointing her bony finger towards J and I. The guards remained where they were at J's penetrating stare. Dr. Davenport left in frustration. The guards followed.

"Thanks, J," I murmured. He kissed me on the cheek. I blushed.

"You know she's coming back, right?" he mentioned. I groaned. I could already hear her heels clicking down the halls. Who wears heels at an asylum anyways?

"Quick, J, is there something we need to escape?"

"Lighter would be nice," he added casually.

Dr. Davenport entered the room with about fourteen guards. It all happened so fast. Eight guards surrounded J, two grabbing him. He went completely berserk, kicking and yelling. The rest of the guards grabbed me. I followed suit, screaming. I figured J knew what he was doing. It was at that moment when things stopped going according to plan. I was being wheeled out of the room by the team of guards. "Wait, where are you taking me? J! Help!" I yelled, reaching out to him. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. It was too late. I was halfway to the solitary unit, and I didn't even know it.

January 1st

Happy new year to me. I did not plan to be stuck in solitary at Arkham when the clock struck twelve. In fact, until a few months ago, I was going to a friend's annual New Year's party. But no. Here I am, stuck in solitary.

I was stuck in here overnight…brought back memories. At least it gave me the time to work out a way of getting J a lighter so we can get out of here. I woke up to the noise of Dr. D and her team of guards walking down the hallway. I quickly hid my diary. I'm keeping this one.

"Ready to talk?" she asked, smiling. I glared at her.

"One condition." She nodded for me to continue. My plan was in effect. "J wants a smoke."

"He doesn't smoke," she responded confusedly.

"Does now. He's having trouble adjusting to Arkham's…charms." I gave her a mocking smirk. She just stood, thinking, thinking, thinking. That's all these psychologist types ever do. Finally she spoke.

"Fine, but only once you two are," she gave me a disapproving look, "…reunited."

"So what do you want to talk about, Doc? Is it the usual 'Don't you feel guilty?'? Or perhaps the 'Why do you love him?'?" I sat back leisurely as far as I could while chained to the floor. She cleared her throat nervously.

As professionally as possible, she articulated, "Let's begin with the day you left Arkham."

"Let's see…" _This could be fun_, I thought. _I can mess with her head, or I can give a straight answer._ I chose to mess with her head. I began dramatically, "It started with Cody. He was my first kill. I snapped his neck. Do you want to hear more about that?" If you can't already tell, I have no respect for this woman whatsoever.

"No. Please continue," came the reply through clenched teeth. I was getting to her already. I'm starting to see why J likes doing this stuff so much.

"Eh, suit yourself. I got out and headed straight for jail to see J," I continued, attempting to stretch. "You should've seen him. He looked so adorable that day, sitting on the floor all chained up like I am."

"Quickly, please. I don't have all day," she snapped, tapping her Prada-clad foot on the floor next to me. I sighed.

"So I managed to get in his cell to visit. Do you want to hear about that, or did you see it on the news?" All I got in return was a scowl. "Well, what _do _you want to hear?"

"I want to know why."

"Why, what?"

"I want to know the reason behind everything. Why did you blow up a building, the same building you thought his body was in? Why did you hold Bruce Wayne hostage? Why'd you move in with your precious J? Why are you still with him even after he broke your rib?"

"I love him," I answered plainly, watching her jaw drop. She was about to say something, but I cut her off. "Oh, don't worry. I've heard it all before…but you're wrong. He does love me."

"_He _is the most dangerous man in Gotham City! He's mentally unstable, and-"

"So am I. Isn't that right? I'm psychotic, and you haven't even told me. I figured it out myself."

"I did tell you! I told you that-"

"What? That I had problems controlling my emotions? Do you think that helped me when I started hearing things? Seeing things that weren't there? Do you think that helped me when I still loved him, even after he almost killed me? You haven't done one thing that's helped, so just stop. We're done here."

"Fine," she responded. With that, she exited the room. I saw no expression on her face in the least.

So here I am, waiting to be reunited with J. I haven't seen him since last year.

January 2nd

Today started with the team of guards coming in to take me back to the cell. No Dr. Davenport this time. I was happy about that; maybe I got to her.

J was already there when we got to the cell. He looked pretty angry, but his face had no grin. It must've been my fault. As soon as the guards left, I started asking questions.

"Are you alright? Where did they take you?"

"Solitary," he growled without looking at me. I tried to smooth things over.

"I got you a lighter."

"Heard." He got up and starting walking towards me.

"What are you doing?" No answer. It's worst when he doesn't answer. I was getting scared. I rolled back as far as I could.

"What were you thinking?!" The sound of his hand colliding with my cheek echoed in the cell, and before I could register what had happened, my face was stinging.

"What did I do?" I screamed through tears. We were _not _going back to this. "You said you couldn't hurt me anymore!" He got this look of mock remorse on his face. I knew I was in trouble.

"That's right…I did." He smacked his hand onto the wall inches away from my face. "So I'm not going to hurt you." His other hand hit the wall. He loomed over me, seeming twice as tall since I was sitting down. Giving me a cold stare, he warned, "I'm going to punish you." I cowered as he pushed away from the wall.

It was the worst moment possible for the guard to throw in a lighter and a pack of cigarettes, but that's when it happened.

"Oh, my word…" I whimpered as I realized what I had done wrong. "J, I'm sorry."

"Are now, aren't you?" he muttered, picking the stuff up. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Do you know why I don't smoke? It's bad for me. I've learned that some things hurt me, so I don't do them. You on the other hand don't seem to understand what's good for you." I sighed.

"What's good for me, J? Go ahead. Tell me."

"Keeping your mouth shut, for one." He coughed after raising the cigarette to his mouth.

"You don't have to smoke that." He nodded to the small mirror in the corner of the ceiling.

"Camera." He blew smoke at me. I waved it away, coughing. "New rule, Harl. You don't talk to anybody but me in here. Or the cops," he added.

"What?" I protested. "What about Charlotte?"

"Nope. I'll do the talking."

"What happens if I talk?" He crouched down to where I was.

"You get to be my ashtray." Before I could question him, I had a hot cigarette on my leg. I yelped in pain, squirming in my chair.

"J!" I screamed, grabbing his arm. He kissed my forehead.

"Shh…" My mouth fell agape at him. What was this all about? He thinks he can just get affection from me after being such a jerk? I don't think so.

"What kind of game is this, J? I can't stand it when you're like this."

"Hey…I'm protecting you. Be happy about that. It's much better than the other side." With that, he walked away to his side of the cell. I bit my lip to keep from talking, but I couldn't help myself.

"What the crap is that supposed to mean?" As soon as I said it, I regretted it. There was nothing I could do but hope he didn't hear me.

"I'll show you tomorrow…when Charlotte comes in."

"No! Please, J, don't hurt her!" I begged him. He just sat up against the wall and smiled.

January 3rd

I was dreading today. As soon as the door opened, I sat straight up in bed. I was about to warn Charlotte, but J gave me a menacing look, reminding me of what happened yesterday. I felt so helpless.

"Hey, Harley…are you okay? You look a little stressed," Charlotte commented. J stood up.

"I can't watch this," I choked. I buried my face in my pillow. All I could hear was poor Charlotte scream, then just sobbing.

"Harley," J said in sing-song. I didn't move. "Harley!" he yelled in the voice usually reserved for Bruce. I very reluctantly complied, looking up at J. He had my IV line wrapped around her neck. She was petrified. This had to stop.

"J, if you hurt her, I swear, I will leave you," I threatened, tears already forming in the corners of my eyes.

"You couldn't if you tried."

"Even if it _kills_ me…I'll do it." He didn't move for a while, then rolled his eyes. Charlotte sighed with relief as he let her go. She rubbed at her neck.

"I…I got to go," she blurted, running out of the cell. I was in complete shock, but I managed to keep eye contact with him. All I could do was say "thank you."

He broke his gaze at me, muttering "Lucky you're so cute..." I couldn't help but think about what he had just done for me. He cared enough about me to risk his reputation. Who knows what could happen now? People might think he's gone soft, but he did it for me. If Bruce doesn't think he loves me now, I don't think he ever will.

I do wonder about Bruce. He must keep an eye on us, being Batman and all. I bet he checks the cameras. Who knows? Maybe if we stay long enough, we'll get a visit. J wouldn't be too happy about that, though. I don't hate Bruce anymore, but J…J has a power for holding a grudge. Oh, well. It won't be too long now. Just eleven days, maybe less, and we'll be gone.

January 4th

I woke up first today, in a very playful mood. I peered over the side of the bed.

"J?" He blinked at the harsh florescent light. "Good morning, sunshine," I giggled. To my surprise, a smile appeared on his face, a real one. After yesterday, I didn't think I'd see one of those for quite a while. I guess he was in a good mood too.

"Hey," he moaned tiredly, running his hand along my face. "You're up early." I stared back at him perplexed. He sounded like a normal person…it was so weird. "What?"

"Nothing," I lied. To be completely honest, I was a little scared of his reaction to "oh, you look normal today." That sounds like I think he's a freak, which I don't. He's sensitive about this stuff. He ignored my vague reply, continuing the conversation.

"You feeling any better?" I smiled at him.

"Little bit. How much longer?" He licked his lips in thought.

"Depends. You've got to practice walking first. It'll save you a world of hurt."

"How do you know?" He spoke to me like I was a three year old.

"Well, Harley, I get hurt a lot at work."

"Shut up!" I laughed, giving him a playful shove. "Can we start walking today?" He sighed jadedly. "Please, J? If I have to move from bed to wheelchair one more time, I'll go insane!" I slapped my forehead with my hand as he broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter. I shouldn't have said that.

"You are insane!" he chortled. I rolled my eyes.

"Had this conversation before, J…" He wiped the tears from his face, desperately trying to subdue his laughter. Finally, he stopped laughing. I looked up at him and burst out laughing. He looked like he was going to explode, biting his lip, his face red. He couldn't help himself anymore, either. We laughed together until the guard outside banged on the door.

"Hey! Quiet in there!" he shouted.

"Why don't you go get a doughnut?" I yelled back, laughing. J laughed along with me, getting up to sit on the bed. He kissed me a little longer than usual, lingering for the camera. A little too long. I pushed him away gently. "J…"

"What?" he asked with a smile, pretending to be innocent. "Just for the cameras."

"Right…" I said skeptically. "So you going to help me walk?" He got up.

"Alright." I dangled my legs over the side of the bed, getting up cautiously. J quickly put my arm around his shoulder to steady me. I held onto my IV with the other arm, and we slowly walked around the room. It was painful, but not as much as it had been. That rib belt had worked wonders. J must've noticed my breathing quicken, though, because he asked me if I was alright.

"I, um-"  
"Want to take a break?" I nodded. He pulled over my wheelchair with his leg and lowered me into it. "Scale of one to ten, how bad was it?"

"It wasn't that bad. It just…grew from like a dull three to a five. I'm fine," I assured.

"You don't sound fine." I got a little defensive at that.

"I am. Promise."

"Hey," he warned. "If you're not okay, you need to tell me. We won't make it out if you can't walk."

"I'm alright. I just need to keep practicing. It's been a while." I tried to smile, but the truth was, I didn't feel up to walking right now. I decided I would feel better in a few days. After all, it really had been a while.

Charlotte opened the door with an armed guard at her side. She was wearing a Kevlar vest. I had to stop myself from chuckling at her. It wasn't like we had a gun stashed away somewhere, but at least she came back in.

"Hello, Harley. Joker," she said matter-of-factly. She had her hair pulled back tightly in a blonde ponytail in her best efforts to be professional. The guard trained his gun on J as Charlotte lowered my morphine and checked the thing in my arm.

"How long do you think before I can walk?" I asked hopefully. As soon as I spoke, the guard had his gun on me. I stared at him defiantly.

She answered curtly, "I believe about a week." What was going on? I saved her life, and she wasn't even talking to me!

"By the way, you know yesterday, with the whole, saving your life thing? You're welcome," I snapped sarcastically. J put his arms on my shoulders protectively. I glanced up at him. He could tell how I was feeling.

"You know…my Harley here is getting a little…upset. I _hate _when that happens," J threatened. I put my hand on top of his.

"You better leave," I muttered. Her blonde hair flipped as she turned on her heel. The guard followed. "What's with them?" I asked J. He rested his chin on my shoulder so he could speak more quietly.

"Ah, doll face…they just don't get us. They'll never understand why somebody like me gets a sweet little harlequin like you. After all, I am a…criminal. A so-called psychopath. A _freak._" I felt so bad for him.

"Oh, J. Help me to stand up, will you?"

"Here," he soothed as he turned the wheelchair around. He bent down so I could reach him. I put my arms around his neck and leaned on him as he stood up.

"You're not a freak, baby." I leaned back a little further so I could see his chocolate brown eyes. "I love you."

"That makes you a freak, too," he joked. I batted my eyelashes.

"Well, I guess we'll just be freaks together," I chimed, leaning my head against his chest. I enjoyed being so dependent on him, at least for now. He looked down at me.

"Ready to try walking again?" he asked gently. I nodded. "Maybe we should try it like this." I gave him a look but went along with it as he walked backwards slowly. It was more like dancing than walking, but it was fun. If I got tired, I could just let him pick me up ever so slightly so that my feet didn't drag on the dirty cell floor. After all, I didn't have my Converse this time, just some Arkham issue white nurse shoes. I chuckled quietly as I caught a glance at the guards in the window arguing about us.

J smiled as if he was some Prince Charming in gray scrubs. He definitely had a regal presence about him; even his posture had a certain personality. I didn't care that we were dancing around an asylum cell; I still felt like a princess.

January 5th

"Good morning," J murmured gently, stroking my hair. I groaned tiredly. "What happened to 'Good morning, sunshine'?" he laughed, twirling a lock of my red tresses around his finger.

"I'm so tired," I responded into my pillow.

"All that lying in bed really exhausts you, you know," he teased. I sat up and gave him a weary, wry smile.

"Alright, I'm up. What do you have planned for today?" I asked smiling for real.

"Well…you should walk some more."

"Mhm…"

"And if you're extra nice to me…you might get to hear the plan for getting out of here."

"Ooh," I commented, swinging my legs around the side of the bed, "Sounds intriguing." He helped me stand with my arms around his neck again, and we began our weird version of physical therapy.

"I'm letting you have a little more weight this time, okay?" I nodded as he lowered me to the floor a little bit. At first, the extra weight was hard to deal with. I stumbled around, but he caught me every time. Eventually, I was doing much better, almost walking on my own. "Are we getting close to the wall?" he asked. It hadn't occurred to me that we were only about eight feet away, fast approaching the white, brick wall.

"Slow down! Okay…and stop." He leaned against the wall.

"Tired?" I nodded, leaning on him almost completely. "You want to sit down?"

"No. I can stand. It's just the walking I have trouble with," I responded breathlessly. "But thank you for taking care of me," I continued, pulling back to make eye contact. I stood on my toes, lining my lips up with his. He took the hint and bent down enough for me to reach him. I kissed him this time, partly because I was loving our weird little dance and partly because I wanted to hear his plans. He pulled back.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to bribe people?" he teased.

"Did it work?" I asked, making big blue puppy eyes at him.

"Hmmm…yes," he replied, hooking my legs under his arm. I squeaked as he picked me up and deposited me on the bed. He sat down on the edge. "Ok. Here's what you're going to do. After we get the guard to open the door, go to the evidence room. It's in the fourth hallway to the right; there's a sign outside the door. Grab our stuff and as many weapons as you can carry. If anybody gives you any trouble, shoot them." I fidgeted nervously with my hair.

"J, I've never shot anybody before. It's always been-"

"Harley. I'm counting on you. If you can't do this, we're not going to make it out of here alive, do you hear me? You're going to have to kill people in this line of work. Don't back out on me now. Can you do it?"

My voice was shaky as I answered, "I, um…" I cleared my throat. "Yes. I got it."

"Okay. After you do that, meet me downstairs in the clinic, room two. We'll work things out from there."

"'Kay."

"We're going to have to run out of there, so let me know when you're up to it. Oh, and try not to forget anything that's not easily replaced. That suit was custom made." I laughed at that.

"Your suit is safe with me." He sighed contentedly.

"Get better soon, doll face."

January 6th

There was a different doctor in today. She was much older than Charlotte. I sat up quickly when I saw her.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"I'm Dr. Waterson," she said uninterestedly as she made her way over to my IV. She took the bag off the hook and dumped it into a tote that she had with her. "Does this hurt?" she asked, pressing my side.

"No."

"This?" she asked, applying pressure to the rib that was broken.

"Nope." She ripped off the tape on my left arm. I winced.

"Little pinch," she warned. Before I could register, my IV was not in my arm anymore, but I could feel it throbbing already. It wasn't the worst pain I had felt, but it still hurt pretty badly. Dr. Waterson rummaged around in her tote bag for a bandage and put it in place of the IV.

"Thanks," I mumbled coldly as she waddled out of the room, dragging the IV pole behind her. J woke with a start at the sound of the door closing.

"Who was that?" he asked groggily.

"Stupid new doctor. Took out my IV." He put his hand on mine.

"You know what that means?" He stood up, scooted me over on the bed, and sat down next to me.

"No. What?"

He smirked and turned to me as he said, "Your rib's healed."

"What?" I laughed as I stood up as quickly as I could. J came to my aid swiftly. Really, I was fine, but I let him do it anyways. "J! This is great!"

"I take it you're feeling pretty good, then." I laughed, nodding. "Let's test that, shall we?" He picked me up around the waist to let me reach around his neck. My left arm was a little sore still, but I could support myself. We began our walk around the room, slowly picking up speed. J let me have more and more weight until I was standing on my own, just with my arms around his neck.

We started turning slightly as we walked around, and before I knew it, he was dancing with me. I was surprised to know that he was actually a good dancer. It was like a ballroom waltz.

"You are quite the dancer, J," I complimented as he spun me. He gave a low chuckle. "I might have to start using my new diary for this."

"Trust me. You'll want to wait," he refuted as I twirled back into the proper position.

"How long?"

"It'll happen after we get out."

"And when will that be?" I asked as we stopped, still in position. A big smile crossed his face as he dipped me.

"Tomorrow."

January 7th

This was it. The big day.

"Harley!" J yelled from the other side of the room. I blinked awake to see him on the other side of the room, messing with that lighter. I walked over for a closer look. He had it split in half, wires exposed.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting the guard to open the door. Grab your diary, doll. It'll happen pretty fast." I did, stowing it in my pocket for the time being.

"Is that a bomb?"

"Nope. Looks like one, though, doesn't it?" he beamed, flashing me an evil smirk. That was a smart trick. From the camera's perspective, it looked like we were about to blow something up, which would get the guy watching the camera to radio our guard. He would open the door and freak out, giving us enough time to scatter. "Ready?" I nodded. "Should be any second now. Oh, and Harl, don't forget the tie," he giggled. Before I could reply, the guard burst through the door. I bolted straight past him.

"Hey!" he yelled after me. I didn't look back, so I can only assume that the gunshot that followed was from J, who must've grabbed the gun and shot the guard. I sprinted down the narrow corridor, turning at the fourth hallway to the right. Sure enough, there was a sign next to the door that said "Evidence. Authorized Personnel Only." I ignored it and turned the knob, but the door was locked.

I ran back down the hallway to find something, anything I could use to break in with. I found a pair of scissors on a desk and was having a hard time with the lock when I heard an employee's voice behind me.

"Excuse me, what are you doing out of your cell?" she asked. That voice was familiar. I turned around. Dr. Davenport's jaw dropped as she realized what was going on. Oh, this was going to be fun. I held the scissors to her neck and forced her to open the door.

"Après vous," I giggled as I led her into the room. She sighed as I closed the door.

"Harley, you don't have to do this. You're a-"

"Shut up," I chimed cheerily, picking up a gun. "You know what J told me to do if there was any trouble? He told me to shoot somebody, and you, my dear doctor, make a fine somebody. Stand over there; I don't want blood on me." She was shaking as I released her, but obeyed my orders. I was liking this feeling of power. Adrenaline was taking over. I shot her without conscience.

I managed to salvage J's entire ensemble, but I couldn't find any of my clothes, so I just grabbed the first coat I saw for now. I got two guns, four knives, and a grenade and headed out the door for the nearest elevator.

It was eerily silent in there after all the noise I had been making. Thankfully I only had to travel one floor in that thing before it stopped. I walked out leisurely, getting a few screams but no approaches. It's amazing the kind of power a gun gives you. I sneaked around the corner to the clinic, making sure I wasn't being followed. Exam room two was close by. J was there waiting for me.

"What took you so long?" he teased. At least, I think he was teasing.

"Yours," I said, throwing him his clothes. I was a little distracted from the adrenaline of just killing someone.

"You did it, didn't you?" he asked happily. I nodded, flashing him a smile. "Who?"

"Dr. D. Never liked her." He chuckled as I threw him a gun.

"Proud of you, kid. Let's get out of here." I squealed. He grabbed his clothes and put on his big purple coat. I put on the coat that I had grabbed, suddenly remembering.

"When we get the chance, I'll need some new clothes. Couldn't find mine."

"You would've wanted some anyway." I gave him a questioning look. "You'll see." I offered him the grenade. "Way ahead of you, Harley-girl." He pulled out some sort of bomb-like monstrosity from the cabinet under the sink, pushed a few buttons, and tackled me to the other side of the room as it exploded. He grabbed my hand and sprinted out of there.

The cold, Gotham air hit my face as we ran through the snow. It was beautiful. A winter wonderland. I loved Gotham at its coldest. I was having a hard time enjoying the scene, however, while being jerked through alleyways and darting throughout the streets. J stopped us in a park when we got to the other side of the city. It was completely empty because of the cold weather, and covered in snow.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"You'll see," he replied with a mischievous smirk. He took both of my hands in his. "Harl, you and I both know commitment's not really my thing. You said it yourself. But you weren't really my thing, either, until you were." I stared at him confusedly. "Listen, Harl, I don't ever want to be separated from you, and I-" I couldn't stand this anymore. I was almost crying.

"Are you proposing to me?"

"Depends. What do you say?" This was a lot to take in. For one, I _never _thought he would propose. Two, I didn't really picture myself getting married at all, let alone to him. But I thought. I thought about how I loved him, no matter what he did. I thought about all the times where he was sweet to me and nobody else. And I thought, why not?

"Yes," I answered, laughing. "Yes!"

And that is when I started to write in my new diary.


End file.
